A Starting Point
by mimirshead
Summary: "But shouldn't people talk about this sort of thing?" He could only imagine the kind of picturesque upbringing Eren Yeager must have had in his tiny little home town that he actually came into his very first fucked up pseudo-relationship with that mindset.


Eren was such a bad idea that it actually hurt his head to try and fathom what the fuck he was doing there. Comfort sex was never a good move after all. Especially when you were having it with a barely legal rookie soldier who could turn into a titan at will.

Add to that that he the reason for the extinction of the rest of his squad, his continued failure to protect anyone at all, and Erwin's cold aloofness. It was fucked up.

It was fucked up that it was violent, and it was fucked up that Eren could take as much shit as he did, and then feel fine the next morning.

But then, what wasn't fucked up these days?

What wasn't desperate, and angry?

His hands were being shoved hard into the headboard. It hurt. He hurt, but that was okay, because there was a mouth on his throat, teeth clamped around his jugular. He would have said something. Something witty, or sarcastic, but he was being bared into.

Desperation was a sweet balm to secret wounds no one else dared reach for. Pain covered pain better than any pain reliever. So it was more than alright that Eren had spread his legs wide to slide between them, hips digging hard into the backs of thighs.

He cursed loud, knowing that there was no one else- not a soul- in the castle barracks.

Eren was being possessive. There was no real time for that, but he assumed it was because the boy had seemingly idolized him before they first met. Infatuation did things to a person. He remembered Petra, and screamed louder at a particularly savage thrust, egging the boy on with taunts.

"I'll bet the commander fucks better."

A hand found it's way to his throat, and squeezed, cutting off his air for a moment, making the world seem all the more urgent in those few seconds as his brain began to plead for oxygen.

"Say that again," was the threat in response.

He tried to scoff at him, but there were fingernails on his ass, digging trenches in his skin. He whined instead, and watched as that brought a smile to Eren's face.

He wanted it to be Erwin's face. Only half way, really but still.

It was there, thinking about their faces half overlayed with one another, that he came. It was a disappointment really, he thought right before it took him, he'd hoped this would stave off any emotions a bit longer.

Eren eased off him, letting his legs drop from over shoulders that were still broadening beneath the stress of new manhood. There was a bit of time there, Eren sitting on his heals, chest heaving, that their eyes caught on each other, and they stared.

They were going to take Eren away too, he realized- not that he hadn't known, just that it hadn't really hit him before just then- they were going to put him back on trial.

Eren heaved a deep breath, and slumped down beside him, leaving him to stare terrified at the ceiling. Who did he have left? Who did he have now that everyone was dead, and gone? Hange was far away, and constantly busy with her titans. Mike was busy with the recruits. Erwin-

He didn't want to think about Erwin. Eren's arm slipped around his waist, and held him close to the boy's stomach. Soft breath puffed against his sweat slick hair.

"Sorry," Eren said softly.

He didn't say anything in return. He just turned, and curled on his side.

"I just hate that you do that, you know? It's like you're trying to make me mad."

"Not right now, Eren." He felt Eren tense up behind him. "It's not a good time."

"Why not?"

He closed his eyes tight. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was listen to someone else open their mouth, and purge the horrible infection from themselves he could never seem to fully purge from himself.

"I'm tired, Eren," and it wasn't really a lie. It wasn't. He was tired. He was tired of everything. Of fighting. Of death. Of fucking in order to ease the thoughts of all of it. Of pining.

"But shouldn't people talk about this sort of thing?"

He could only imagine the kind of picturesque upbringing Eren Yeager must have had in his tiny little home town that he actually came into his very first fucked up pseudo-relationship with that mindset.

"Normal people," he agreed, but he was far from normal. He was the kid who'd lost his virginity at eleven because it had been so easy. He was the kid who'd sold his first paper triangle of distilled poppies at fourteen, and got caught fucking his supplier for discounts. He was Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Probably desperately infatuated with the commander of the Scouting Legion.

And this was Eren Yeager. The boy who'd killed before he'd kissed, who'd wielded an improvised weapon for a stranger. The boy who'd vowed at twelve years old, to kill all the titans for what they'd done. The boy who'd made the shift into one of the things he hated most for the people he'd loved most, and won humanity their first victory.

They weren't normal people, and Eren knew that.

"Shouldn't we at least try?"

"What's the point?" he asked, staring at the hair on Eren's arms, the way it stood up against the static charge of his fingers, caught by the candle light in soft hues.

"Getting along?"

"They're going to kill you, and then there won't be any of that shit anymore."

Eren's fingers twitched erratically. "How do you even know?"

"Well they only just didn't last time, and now Erwin's being tried for war crimes, and you're being tried for- i don't even fucking know what- not being a real person. Some dumb fucking shit, and what's the fucking point? Why bother with any of that when getting to know someone else is just going to get shit on by the world. I don't want to know you. I just want to fuck you."

He felt more than saw the hurt in Eren's body. It made him want to puke.

"Sorry," the kid said softly into his hair.

He closed his eyes, and willed the world away. "You know that feeling too," he said finally, hating that he'd fucked up. "Everyone's dying left, and right." Eren nodded. "I'm done with that shit."

He knew that Eren understood that, but he doubted very much that the boy was able to grasp that that's why he'd said what he'd said. Yet he had this inability to open his mouth, and push out the secrets of his lifetime of jading. Instead he wound his fingers around the kid's, and sighed against the pillow.

"Tell me about it."

Eren shook his head.

"No, I mean it. Tell me about it. All of it. Tell me about what I do that you hate. Tell me."

"I hate it when you talk about Erwin." It was a telegraphed starting point, but it was a starting point, and at least now he would feel less bad. It would be a little less his fault when the kid ended up as fucked up as he was despite his loving parents.

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